She hadn’t even had a chance to personalize her office yet; this was patient six in the span of an eighteen-hour day. She was feeling it. Fortunately, this was her last patient of the day. Her door buzzed,

“Doctor, your patient, Commander Anderson, is here,” said Freddy, her assistant. They had short purple spiky hair and piercings out of both ears. Fortunately, they had a conversation with the Station’s first officer about the other piercings.

“Thanks, Freddy, send them in!” Minh said, looking back from the replicator. “Coffee, black.”

The door swished open, and Lieutenant Commander Anderson entered the room.  The scar-faced human stopped just inside the door, seeing the doctor’s coffee materialize in the replicator.  He waited until she had retrieved it and taken a sip before speaking.  “Lieutenant Commander Anderson,” he said by way of introduction; over one shoulder of his yellow uniform, he had slung a worn and patched field jacket.

She was caught off guard, she thought she had a chance to take a sip, being caught mid sip she finished it, “I am sorry Mr. Anderson. I am Minh Nao. I studied Psychylogy on Earth and Vulcan. You can call me Doctor, Minh, Miss, whatever makes you comfortable. Please,” she motioned around the room, “sit where you wish.”

She sat where there was an oversized 1 and 1/2 chair by a lamp; this was clearly her workstation of choice. It had an oversized table, medical padds, and reference padds piled neatly. There was a desk in the corner that was clearly off limits, and sofas and chairs all around. All within eyesight.

Anderson sat in one of the non-reserved armchairs, draping his jacket across its back.  “It’s all right, Do-” he stopped himself, then restarted, “Minh.”  As he sat, it seemed almost as though he was trying to appear relaxed when he wasn’t, as there was a rigidity to his posture that belied the presentation.  The rigidity was somewhat understandable; his file noted that his assignment to Starbase Bravo was his return to active duty after a medical leave of absence subsequent to a planetside duty posting during the Vaadwaur invasion, though the file was somewhat thin on details.  “Coffee is best when savored, I find.”

“I agree, would you like one?” Minh smiled, not only at the fact that he seemed to be at ease around her, but he broke the ice himself. Most patients come in with their defenses up, and well, it makes Minh’s job that much harder. “I am not too sure how you like it, so if you wish, you can order anything to make you comfortable.”

He shook his head.  “I had some earlier, but thank you.”  While Anderson may have broken the ice, Minh’s expert eyes could tell that he was still somewhat guarded in his own way.  His file did note that he had undergone some mandated counseling after the mission on Norfan III, before being cleared to return to active duty, which could explain why he didn’t seem defensive at the good doctor’s presence.  Anderson sat quietly, giving Minh time to finish her coffee.

“Alright, let’s get down to it. What brings you in today?” she smiled.

Anderson sat a moment longer before answering, trying to order his thoughts.  “How do you know when you’re ready?”  He eventually asked.  “To go back on duty, that is; I know Medical cleared me, but….”  He shrugged.  “How do I know if it’s the right call, or if I’d just managed to say the right things?”

“That is a good question, it all comes too … what happened. Let’s start there, Commander. What happened?” Minh leaned in.

Anderson took a moment again.  “Well, the short version is, I was on Norfan III, part of a security training mission for the local officers, when the Vaadwaur hit it.  Disobeyed orders to fall back because of a hospital that hadn’t been fully evac’d, and most of my team didn’t make it as a result.  Didn’t even manage to save hardly anyone, either.”  As he spoke, his voice drifted quieter and became more distant, while also taking on an angry edge.  It was unclear if he was angry at himself or at something else about the situation that hadn’t been stated; whatever he was omitting seemed to be less about mistrust and more about embarrassment or self-disappointment, though.  “Been back on active duty a couple of weeks now, but I just don’t feel right, y’know?  A security officer has to be calm, patient, analytical, attentive, decisive when the need arises…  but I feel jumpy, unsettled, and like I keep second-guessing myself…”  He trailed off.

“Let’s focus on the thing I sense that you are hiding from me. I sense the walls you put up, but not behind them. Let’s break those down.” Minh said, leaning forward.

Anderson sighed hesitantly before speaking.  “I was accused of dereliction and disobedience in getting most of my team killed, and was told that it might have been different if we’d saved more people.  I…  didn’t take it well, you could say.”  He looked away, embarrassed.  “I guess someone higher up took pity on me – understood why I’d acted as I did, both on Norfan and later.  Couldn’t excuse the attack, of course, but…”

“Later?” Minh asked.

“I mean, I may have put the commander who accused me of wasting my team’s lives for no good reason in the medical bay…”

Her brow furrowed; she could feel the distress in the man. “I am so sorry.” She paused. “The attack took a lot out of everyone. It is quite possible that CO was under a lot of stress at the moment and took it out in a situation that was not meant to be directed at you, it should of been handled better. What was your reaction to all of this?”

Minh felt the initial attack of the Vaadwaur, and what happened immediately afterwards had a tie to the now. The man needed more time with her, or another counselor, should he wish. He clearly had PTSD.

Anderson leaned forward, contemplating his hands for a moment before looking up.  “I know I was right, not in assaulting a senior officer, but in trying to rescue the people in that hospital.  But there are days when I can almost feel my team’s ghosts or whatever hovering nearby; maybe not accusing me, but certainly asking if their deaths were worth it, you know?  And when that happens, I hesitate.  I second-guess; in a training room, I can pass it off as a learning opportunity, but if it happens during a real crisis, people could suffer, either my team or others, it doesn’t matter which.”  He sighed.  “That’s why I asked how I know when I’m ready to go back into the field, not medically but mentally.”

“James, those ghosts are always going to be with you, but, if you want, we can come up with coping mechanisms. I recommend we have regular appointments, once a week, to work through this. There is no quick fix to this, but after working together and making sure you are ready, I assure you, you will have the tools necessary. But it is my professional opinion that you are fit for duty; you can still differentiate between the two.” Minh said.

Anderson nodded, taking a deep breath.  “Thank you, Doctor,” he said simply.